Just a Trick
by ThereBeDragons17
Summary: Rogue asks Gambit to teach her to throw cards like he does. To say the least, Remy is surprised. Pre-ROMY pointless fluff.


**A/N: I apologize for how long it's been since I've posted something! Sorry it's a pretty short one.**

 **I did my very best to make Rogue and Gambit's accents believable, but they're so similar it's hard. Also, I'm just going off of what I heard in X-Men: Evolution. If there's a problem with the accents, sorry…**

 **Also, this is my first ROMY fic. Or romance fic. I'm new at this, so gimme a break.**

 **NOTE: this is based off of what I've seen in XM:E, or other stories, not the comics. If the characters seem OOC, check the EvolutionVerse. This is posted under X-Men because Remy was never a member of the X-Men in XM:E.**

* * *

"How d'ya do tha'?" asked the girl sitting at the kitchen counter.

Remy paused. Rogue usually made a point of not speaking to him. Not that he was complaining, of course. Her voice was the voice of angels— but it was highly uncommon and deviated from their usual trend of him flirting and her being stone cold.

"What, dis?" he questioned, and threw his next card at the stack of cups he had set up at the opposite end of the counter. They all clattered to the ground. The card spiraled into the depths of the kitchen, possibly never to be seen again.

Rogue nodded affirmative. The prickly Southern girl was doing homework at the tiled counter. It looked like algebra. If her choices were between algebra and paying attention to him, well— Remy was still surprised she had chosen him.

"You want Remy t' teach you dis?" he asked again, slightly incredulously.

"Get a clue, Swamp Rat," Rogue mocked, closing her book. "Yes, Ah want ya ta teach me."

Remy blinked. Women were such… nebulous creatures. Rogue would just as soon drop him in the pool as she would, apparently, come to him to learn how to throw cards. It made her very hard to understand.

"Take a card, _cherie,_ " he said, fanning out the deck and laying it down in front of her. She delicately selected one with her black-gloved fingers. Ace of hearts. How appropriate. "Hold it like dis." Remy pinched the bottom corner between his middle and pointer finger and held the card out. Rogue copied him, almost. "No— on de inside."

Rogue adjusted her card so that it rested on the inside of her hand.

"Now t'row."

She looked at him like he was insane. "Tha's all? Jus' throw?"

Remy shrugged. "I neva t'ink 'bout it. I just know."

Rogue sighed, held out the card, and and threw it in what she thought was the right motion. The card went about two feet forward before spinning and fluttering to the ground. Remy let out a loud, barking laugh, which quickly died away as Rogue sent him a withering look. "What am Ah doing wrong, then?"

"You're…" Remy paused, thinking. "You're arm's movin' too much. It's a flick, not a.." Remy made a wide, flailing motion with his arm. Rogue scowled some more.

"Is it lahk throwing a frisbee?" Rogue asked, impatient.

"Sure," Remy said.

"Sure, or yes?"

"I ain't t'rown many frisbees in mah life, _cherie._ "

Rogue picked up another card and spent a few seconds adjusting its position in her hand. Then, curling her arm inward toward her body, she whipped out her arm. The throw wasn't any more successful than her first attempt; the card fluttered to the counter and slid off the end, disappearing out of sight.

Remy had developed enough self-preservation instinct since Rogue's last attempt to refrain from laughing. When she looked at him in askance, however, he could provide no advice. "You jus' ain' doin' it righ', _cherie._ It's a practice t'ing."

"Yah ain't very helpful, mistah."

"I ain' no teacher, _cherie._ I jus' a man wi't a deck 'o cards." Remy paused. "And a pretty lady."

"Don' go gettin' ahead a yourself, Swamp Rat," Rogue chastised, throwing the whole deck of cards at him like one would a baseball. They bounced off his chest harmlessly and fluttered to the ground like confetti. "Ah got better things ta do with mah time than learn a card trick."

"Don' look like dat tuh _moi,_ _cherie._ " Remy scooped up some of the cards that had ended up on the counter and shuffled them. He took his time in flipping them all over to the same side, extracting each card and righting it with precise but prolonged motions. "But if dat's what _you_ t'ink, den by your own t'inkin' you musta put aside dat more-important bidness tuh ask Remy tuh teach you. So _I_ t'ink that you _like_ Remy." He looked her full in the face and gave her his most playboy grin.

He could see that she was debating smacking him, and he was half disappointed when she didn't try to. "Kitty asks Roberto ta teach her baseball all the time. They aren't in love. Why ya think we are?"

" 'Cause Remy knows de _femmes_ , _cherie,_ an' he knows when dey're flirtin' wit' him." He chuckled as Rogue gave him an exasperated look.

"Ah could call Logan in here if you don' have the manners ta leave me alone, Swamp Rat."

"Threats!" Remy laughed. "Don' you worry, _cherie,_ I'ma leave you tuh your bidness now." With a final flourish, Remy scooped up all the cards and did a one-handed cut before sticking the deck in one of the pockets of his overcoat.

"She'll come 'round 'ventually," he muttered to himself as he left the room, grinning devilishly.

* * *

 **With his accent, Remy would say 'threats' as 't'reats', but that looks like 'treats', so I left it as-is.**


End file.
